Payback
by Aownr1669
Summary: Daryl turns the tables on the newest member of the group.   yes, what happens in the tent!   Sequel one-shot to "Sucker!"  Rated M.  Daryl/OC.


**Payback**

_Sequel to "Sucker!" Complete and utter smut. If you haven't already read that, probably should. If you want a third and final chapter, you're gonna have to review. _

Daryl zipped the tent up with a loud tearing sound and turned around quickly. I stood there like a statue, a little afraid of what was going to happen next. I'd started this. I'd put this whole thing in motion with that stupid sucker. I was the one who wanted this. I'd been thinking about this since fate threw us together. Thought about it long and hard, pun intended, and now here we were. Face to face. I must look like deer in the headlights. How absolutely appropriate for Daryl Dixon.

He moved towards me and grabbed my waist, pulling me to him, half knocking me off my feet. His eyes burned into me with a look I'd never seen from him before. Fiery. Intense. The color was darker, smoldering deep electric blue. His head dipped down and before I realized what he was doing, his mouth was on mine, pressing, warm. Covering my lips with his, the scraggly whiskers on his chin tickling gently. I put my hands up to his chest and could feel him breathing hard, the thick muscles moving under the thread-bare shirt.

I think I tried to open my mouth to say something and the man's tongue shot in like a coiled cobra striking, rolling around inside, running over my teeth, the roof of my mouth. He wrapped and twisted it around my own tongue like a python, curling and winding. That was it. Daryl kissed like a snake. It was like his jaw unhinged and his tongue was quicksilver - limber, loose, fluid motions. Wandering around every nook and cranny of my mouth, leaving nothing untouched. His hips were moving against mine in a slow, undulating movement to match his tongue. Holy Mother of God, could that man kiss. The other thing that reminded me of a snake was the feeling that started somewhere south of my navel and wound it's way down to my core as he pressed against me. Slithering down every nerve, making every synapse tingle and burn. He finally let me up for air and I gasped out loud, wondering if anything else Daryl Dixon had was similar to a snake.

He continued to press against me, his hips pushing into mine, moving in a smooth figure eight motion now, side to side, rubbing against me. He looked at me and narrowed his eyes. "Been waitin' for his." he growled, meancingly. Like the guy in the black sweatshirt that drags you into the corner of the parking garage. Nothing good on his mind.

He probably could feel my heart pounding, pumping blood to places it hadn't been in a while, my pulse racing. Hell, he could probably hear it. I whined a little in the back of my throat as he swept my arms to his neck and picked me up by the waist, my feet dangling in mid air. He walked forward towards the air mattress on the floor and stood me next to it's edge, setting me down gently. "Take 'em off."

"Really? No romance, just take 'em off?" I protested, knowing that I was gladly going to do pretty much whatever he asked. "Who says chivalry is dead?"

"DO it." he hissed, his hands grabbing at my jeans, popping the snap open and clawing at the waistband, pulling them down my hips to my ankles. I kicked off my shoes and stepped out of the jeans, now only in my button-down shirt and underwear. He squatted in front of me, pulling down my plain white cotton underwear slowly, causally, hooking his thumbs in the elastic on the front. I could tell from the heat of my cheeks that I was blushing heavily now. I looked down and watched as he leaned forward and ran his tongue up the front of one of my thighs. I closed my eyes as he reached the crook at the top of my leg and ran his tongue from side to side. Oh dear Lord, this man was going to be the death of me and he hadn't even really touched me yet.

I sat down and he put both hands beside my hips on the mattress and leaned towards me, pushing me on my back to the pillow with the weight of his well-muscled chest. My hands went to his shoulders as he straddled me now, his thighs moved up to where his hands were, brushing against me as he took hold of wrists.

"This's gotta go." he nodded to my shirt. If he took it off, I would be completely naked in a tent with a fully-clothed Daryl Dixon in the middle of a warm Georgia afternoon. Right where I wanted to be, except in my dreams, _he _sure wasn't fully clothed.

He put his hands on the button and began to jerk harshly, popping some of them off, others the thin fabric ripping in is fingers. He worked slowly. Methodically. He moved my arms straight up and pulled my shirt up like he was going to take it off over my head, but instead, he laughed and twisted the body of the shirt around my wrists, taking the two sides and tying them into a knot, pulling it roughly, my hands now immobile, my arms bound loosely but securely.

"Daryl, not funny. Undo it. Lemme' go." I could hear the words coming out of my mouth, but the feelings coming from other places were saying just the opposite. "DARYL!" I said loudly.

He pressed my hands to the pillow with his own, dragging his crotch against me and looked at me with sheer delight on his face. "Don't ya' dare move 'em." he said, his eyes ablaze. He looked down. "No bra." he smirked.

"In the wash" I said quietly, my eyes back and forth between his. He grinned, his lip curled slightly, making that heavenly mole move upwards as well. It was a grin straight from the devil himself. Full of the promise of utter debauchery. Well, a girl could hope, at least.

"What are you going to do?" I whispered. I'm sure my eyes were telling him that I was half-afraid but my nipples, now hard and stiff, were telling him a completely different story.

He laughed and leaned down, his breath hot in my ear, making it difficult to think of anything but the pressure he was putting on me with his hips. "Whatever I fuckin' well want." That was the very moment I realized that a) I was totally under his control and b) I loved every minute of it. Sheer helplessness at the hands of the Great White Hunter of DeKalb County. My brain sputtered like an engine out of gas and ground to a halt, surrendering to the waves of excitement that were rolling up from my core.

I closed my eyes and shuddered as Daryl began kissing me again. This time, it was even slower. Lingering, commanding kisses followed by long strokes of his tongue against my cheek, his teeth just barely grazing flesh here and there as he worked his way from my mouth, down my jaw line, around my neck and up to my ear. He drew my earlobe between his teeth and bit gently, slowly alternating between a gently suck pressure and tiny nips. He ran his tongue around the outer edge and then pressed his teeth together again, the skin between his lips, every exhale filling my ear canal with his hot, moist breath. I rolled my head back and he nipped at my earlobe again. "Yeah, ya' like that, don't 'ya? I can tell from these." he whispered, dropping his hands to my breasts, squeezing the nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.

"Yes." I whispered, my throat dry now. "God, yes." He bore down with his hips once more, slowly in a half-circle motion, pressing them into mine again. "Oh God, yes." I croaked.

Daryl's lips worked their way down my neck, taking one side then the other, little sucking kisses and swirls of his hot, wet tongue leaving a trail of fire. He spent a long time making sure that the two small bruises he left at the base of each side of my neck matched perfectly, totally enjoying me beginning to arch against him. He ran his tongue outward, across my collarbone towards my arms, still stretched over my head, caught in tangle of cotton shirt. He knew I knew he was in control and he was loving it as much as I did.

Daryl stopped and moved his hands from my ribs to the bed and pushed himself up, rolling a leg over and moving to his knees beside the bed. I opened my eyes and watched as he pulled off his shirt and unbuckled his leather belt, his pants dropping, still in his gray knit boxers, which made the outline of his, well, let's just say I gulped. He kicked them off and returned, kneeling over me, wrapping my legs around his bare hips now. "I wanna' feel what I do ta' ya'." he said, licking his lips. His voice was low, dripping sticky-sweet like warm caramel sauce dripping down the side of an ice cream cone, it's heat melting the frosty custard as it slides along, pooling along the rim of the delicate cone, all gooey and thick.

He returned to kissing my neck, his back arched as he bent over. This time, working his way down to my breasts, causing goose bumps on the pale flesh, my nipples hard. He ran his chin over them slowly and then took one in his mouth, slowly sucking, his lips curled in around his teeth as he pulled them away and stretched them between his lips, releasing them slowly. He used his snake-tongue to dart and flick over them quickly, then slither around them, letting his hot breath spill out. Wet. Teasing. Punishing me for torturing him earlier.

I was moaning again and before I knew it, I had started to lower my hands, my elbows bending to bring them to his head as he worked me over. A hand shot up and grabbed mine, pushing them back over my head harshly as he bit down on my nipple and pinched it between his teeth. "Back up." he barked as I cried out in a mixture of pain and sheer pleasure. This man had me tied up and had just bitten me...and it scared me how much I loved it.

Daryl ran his hands down my ribcage slowly to my waist and turns me over, leaning into me, stretching up, his breath on my back, his beard tickling between my shoulder blades. I twitch and I can hear him snicker a little. He starts at the top of my neck and starts a trail of kisses slowly down my spine, pulling the skin betweens his lips creating a little suction while his tongue works it magic. He exhales as he goes, the warm air from his lungs hits the little wet trail his tongue is making and I shudder every time he does it while his fingers play, still wrapped around my ribcage.

He works his way down, slow and leisurely-like, ending just where the cleft of my ass begins. He moves behind me and sucks in a loud breath dramatically. "Shit, woman," he whispers, "that's an _ass_." He runs his hands around the outside, thumbs trailing on the fleshy part and squeezes a cheek in each of his warm hands. He rubs it again, his palms flat, circling a couple times slowly, and then squeezes hard. "Mmmm-mmm." I hear him say. His cheek brushes the flesh, scratchy, tickling and I giggle a little bit. I feel his tongue next, a broad stroke, hot against my skin. He moves to the other cheek and I feel his breath again. I was anticipating another swipe of that heavenly tongue and instead, I heard myself squeal as he sunk his teeth into the apple of my ass-cheek and then felt him trace around the bite-mark with his tongue and lips.

"Jesus, Daryl!" I moaned as he turned me over to my back again. I looked at his face, flushed, sweaty, his eyes ablaze. He grinned and leaned over to his shirt, fiddling with something. I closed my eyes for a second until I heard the rustle of paper and Daryl's low whistle. My eyes snapped open, realizing what he'd done. He sat over me, the soft fabric of his well-worn boxers brushing my thighs. He puts the red orb between his lips and smiles slyly as he rolls it back and forth in his mouth. Oh, jeeeezus, my mind shrieks, oh no he's not!

"Daryl, you're not gonna..."

"Gonna'...what?" He's still smiling, a naughty, evil little smile, a bit of red-colored spit on the corner of his lip.

"No. Seriously. You can't. It'll cause-" he stops me mid-sentence.

"You got a real dirty mind there, lil' girl." he drawls. He takes the sucker out of his mouth and puts it in mine, moving it in and out slowly. Cherry-flavored sin. I feel him twitch, hard now against my thigh, and he closes his eyes and exhales loudly again. His hands move to my hips and he sits back on his knees, pulling mine up and peering over them. He turns his head to one side and a slow smile starts at the corner of his mouth and spreads to the other side, more of a smirk, his eyes twinkling, his face barely visible.

"Now then," he says quietly, his hands moving to separate my knees, "let's see how many licks it takes ta' git ta' tha' center .." My mind goes blank right about then as I realize what he means.

Twenty-two. It takes twenty-two.


End file.
